Poker
by surrender-becomes-power
Summary: "When the Joker fucks you, you fuck him back harder. That slimmey green haired, lipstick wearing mother fucker fucked with the wrong family." [Revenge is on the cards, but whose holding the winning hand?] JokerxOC
1. Chapter 1

He pulled up the in the mint green Cadillac and glanced at the hotels neon lit sign with a smirk.

 _Gotham Colosseum_

It had the best casino in Gotham, well, there wasn't much competition really. The closest casino in style and grace was owned by the Falcone's, meaning half the city were either too scared or to go there or banned from entering.

Slicking his hair back into place, he studied his features in the rear view mirror; rugged but young, well young enough for a 50 year old. He fixed his tie once more before exiting his car with a joyful bounce, throwing his car to the valet. He was travelling light, a small handheld suitcase at his side as he strode meaningfully onto the hotels marble flooring. With each step his waxed brogues clipped against the floor.

Making a beeline for the reception, his eyes locked with a blonde receptionist. White smile, red lips, blue eyes, the receptionist spoke with a British accent. "Hello Sir, welcome to the Gotham Colosseum."

"Hi, Darling. I have a reservation under Fylde." He smirked, pulling out his card.

He watched as the blonde typed in a few details, her long fingernails hitting against the keys with a click.

"Yes, Mr Fylde, we have the Blackgate suite on the tenth floor, ready for you with a complimentary bottle of champagne." The blonde receptionist took the Mr Fylde's card and swiped it. "If you require any assistance call down to reception, room service runs between the hours of 7am and 11pm, and I hope you enjoy your stay." With another eye watering white smile the receptionist handed Mr Fylde his card, the key to his room and a leaflet to the casino.

"Thank you Miss.."

"Mrs. Davenport." She smiled, accented.

He smirked. "MRS Davenport.. well your husband is a lucky man." Mr Fylde winked at the receptionist, tucking the cards in the inside of his jacket pocket before walking away.

* * *

Joker sat in the back of the van, checking the several Rolex watches that took up his left arm and gave a growl of annoyance. He was getting impatient. "Where the fuck is Vin!" His foot stamping down against the van's floor.

No one flinched in the back and remained steel faced, accustomed to their boss' abrupt aggression. Accept for the driver in the front, whose dampened top lip gave away his nervousness.

Frost inwardly sighed, answering his boss. "He said he'd be here at 6, boss." Simultaneously giving the driver a napkin for the sweat.

"What time is it now?" Joker snapped. He could've looked at his own watch, the several he had, but why would he when he had people to do that for him?

"Five to, boss."

The Joker growled, red lips curled up. "Well he better hurry up otherwise I'll kill him!" He snarled, leg bouncing. "And that goes for all y'all too!" Joker shouted, addressing his henchman. "You fuck this up, and I'll mow you and your families down!" He ran a hand through his hair and smirked manically to his henchmen, knowing underneath those masks they were cowering.

The driver closed his eyes, hoping that didn't include him. His shoulders hunched over as he cowered in his seat, hands gripping tightly at the steering wheel.

Unfortunately for him, the Joker was watching, he was always watching. "Jerry! Man, don't be nervous! I wouldn't hurt you!" The driver eased up but was still intimidated, he could taste the teasing tone Joker had, it frightened him. "But I would hurt ya pretty lil wife."

Jerry's eyes widened, and stuttered 'Sir' in fear.

Frost chuckled next to Jerry as the Jokers manic laugh runs round the van's interior. "I'm joking Jerry, take a joke." He chuckled, loving to wind people up. Soon after though the laugh fell silent and Joker became serious. "Just don't piss me off otherwise I'll use you as bullet cover."

Joker laughed again, grill shining into Jerry's eye as he caught sight of him in the rear view mirror. Just then there was a knock at the back door. The van fell quiet as Joker opened the door, coming face to face with Vinny.

"You're late." He snarled, looking Vinny up and down.

Vinny frowned and checked his watch; by him he was on time but this was the Joker. "It's a bit hard to smuggle a safecracker around with me when the cops are on every block."

Joker rolled his eyes and showed his grill, annoyed with his chat back. "Whatever, just gimme it." He clicked his fingers expectantly.

Vinny sighed, throwing a heavy duffle bag into the back of the van. Joker took a look at it, immediately complaining. "It's that big!?" Vinny nodded. "What happened to small and compact?!"

"It's the smallest I could get on such short notice Joker." Vinny uneasily responded.

Joker growled, green hair falling in his face as he launched forward to grab Vinny. "When I ask for small Vin my man, I get small, ya understand." His grilled teeth on show. Vinny nodded, eyes bulging and lip quivering. He could smell the alcohol on Jokers breath.

"I-I'm s-sorry boss, I'll do better next time." Vinny stuttered, legs close to collapsing under the terror he felt.

Then all of a sudden, Jokers snarl turned into a smile as the criminal let go of his supposed adviser, letting him down to the ground. He hummed, smile curling up further on his pale white skin.

Jerry, the driver, watch on through the mirror, heart palpating, top lip wet as the Joker took his gun from his holster and put a bullet straight between this guys eyes.

The shot rang around the empty parking lot as Joker joked. "Mhm yeah you will." The Joker cackled as the body hit the back of the van and fell to the ground, in a pool of blood. His henchman and Frost sat still, unaffected by their boss' cold bloodedness as he turned to them with a demented smile. "Suit up boys, we gotta job to do!"

* * *

Popping the champagne, Mr Fylde poured a flute full, pocketing the wire and cork, and took a refreshing sip. He smirked and wandered over to the window, studying the skyline. Tonight was going to be a good night, great in fact, if his luck was in and something told him it would be.

He out the flute down after he'd drunk it and grabbed the leaflet the receptionist had gave him, opening it and immediately surveying the inside. It was listed with the hotels restaurants and casino games; slots, blackjack, poker, roulette, baccarat. All the usual suspects. But the one that was circled with a red marker was Craps.

Mr Fylde hummed, Craps it was then.

Heading to his bed, Mr Fylde slipped off his shoes and led himself on the bed, grabbing the room service menu from the side table. He was feeling slightly peckish and fancied a bite to eat before gambling tonight.

Grabbing the phone, he phoned down to concierge to place his order. "Hello, concierge desk, how can I help." A thick accented man answered.

"Hi, yeah, could I have room service to the blackgate suite please."

"Certainly, sir, what would you like?"

Mr Flyde hummed, eyes scanning over the exoctic menu. "I'll take duck pancakes, pork belly, chicken steamed gyoza's and lemon sparkling water with a shot of tequila."

* * *

Amelia rushed into the back entrance of the hotel ficing her uniform as she did. She straightened out her hairpins, giving a smiling glance as she passed a couple of other workers. She went straight to her port of call; the kitchens.

"Room service, blackgate suite!" The chef called out as the room attendant places everything onto a tray. "Duck pancakes, pork belly, chicken steamed gyoza's, lemon tequila sparkling water."

 _Bingo._

She smiled, heading towards the room attendant. "I got this Hugh, go take ya break." Hugh thankfully nodded, letting Amelia control the cart. Quickly exiting the kitchen, she made her way to the blackgate suite.

Che soon came to a holt outside it and stopped to fix her outfit and hair before knocking twice. "Room service." She called out and waited. The door opened within seconds showing a buff looking old man with nothing but a towel around her waist. Amelia took a deep breath as the man smirked at her, getting out of the way for his food to be delivered.

Amelia proceeded to uncover the food as the man in the towel clicked the door shut. He hummed, sauntering over. "Mhm that looks delicious." Though his eyes weren't on the food but her.

Amelia raised her eyebrow. "Watch it Frank." She said in a teasing tone, smelling his strong cologne as he got closer.

"Please, Amelia, it's Mr Fylde. A suave businessman with a passion for gambling." Frank smirked, grabbing one of the gyoza's and popping it in his mouth.

Amelia scoffed sarcastically. "Suave businessman? Please."

Frank nodded, licking the sauce from his fingers. "And one that has a taste for sexy room attendants." Amelia just rose her eyebrow, unimpressed with him. They had a job to be doing, so she tried to focus his mind back on that.

"You go the cork?" Amelia asked, hand outstretched. Frank nodded and dug it out from the pocket of his pants, giving it to her with a kiss to the cheek. "How's Nikola doing?"

Frank rounded Amelia and wrapped his arms around her waist as he spoke. "Mhm great, she's adopted a British accent and apparently she's married now."

Amelia chuckled. "Our daughter married?" Frank hummed, tenderly kissing Amelia's neck. "Well at least she can dream I guess…"

"Yeah… well at least she's not being witty and sarcastic." Frank said with a thankful tone. Their daughter was synonymous for ending up in fights with her sarcastic attitude.

"She'd get fired if she did." Amelia mused. "And that's the last thing we need right now."

Frank unwrapped himself and headed to pour two glasses of champagne. "She'll do a good job we know that." He passed one to Amelia. "The twins in place?"

"Thanks, yeah." She took a sip, walking over to check out the view from the hotel suite. "Casey's in position and Shannon should be on the table soon enough."

"Okay and you now what to do? Your timings?" He followed her, making sure everything was ready. This needed to go well, otherwise it could end up with them in jail.

With a sigh, Amelia glanced up to Frank, unimpressed. "Honey, how long have we been in this game?" Frank screwed his face. "Years. I'm a pro, if anyone's gonna fuck up it'll be the twins."

Frank couldn't argue with that. "Yeah… I don't know why we bring them on these things sometimes, they argue more amongst themselves than doing the job." He sighed, they really were a handful sometimes. "Another?"

"I'm working." Amelia refused.

"C'mon, one won't hurt darling." Though Frank was still in one of his mischievous moods. "We could even get a little frisky before everything happens aye?" He went to wrap his arms around Amelia but she pulled away, giving his arm a slap.

"Manos fuera, señor Fylde, es poco profesional." She told him in her mother tongue before tutting. "We have a job to do."

"A lil' fun doesn't hurt though." He pouted, stringed in his advances. "Anyway, here's to tonight, the Illinois', Gotham's worst."

"Gotham's richest." Amelia winked.

"Gotham's richest." They both smiled, clinking their glasses together.


	2. Chapter 2

"ETA ten minutes boss." Frost called from the front of the van.

Joker grumbled in acknowledgement, pulling on his custom made suit he'd had done for this heist. Finished with his his name in gold across the chest. He wanted this to run as smoothly as his chaos plaid plans usually did and he wanted to look great doing it, was that such a crime?

Pulling on his gloves, he studied his henchman one by one. Pandaman, Giant Eyeball Man, Slender, Goat and his personally favourite Batsy.

Batsy always brought a smile to his grilled teeth, how mad did one man have to be to have a henchman dressed like his biggest enemy.

The Joker.

It was a test for him, sometimes the joker forgot Batsy was there and would pull his gun on him, ready to pull the trigger. Sometimes he wished he did, just to know what it felt like to kill the Bat.

Joker suddenly lost that train of thought as the van took a sharp right, making his jolt forward. That he wasn't happy about. He growled and cranes his neck before calling out the driver. "You ready for this Jerry?"

The driver gulped, top lip pooling with sweat as he nodded back at his boss in the rear view mirror.

Jokers blue eyes, crazed by ice, caught Jerry's eye. "You better." He smirked, lipsticked lips snarling as he ran his fingers across his throat.

* * *

Frank whistled as he exited into the busy casino with a smirk to his lips. This was going to be fun.

He'd changed from his cream coloured suit to something a little more… classy for tonight's soirée. Black tuxedos with sparkling bow tie he thought would do the trick. He looked classical, fancy and definitely rich, of which he knew he would be after tonight's ball busting project.

The smirk that had stuck with him since he'd arrived resonated still on his lips as he marched confidently across the marble flooring of reception. As he did, Frank gave a glance to the receptionists desk where Mrs Davenport was stood working. He gave a quick and very cocky wink towards her as he strode with immense confidence into the hotels vast casino area.

Mrs Davenport caught the guests wink and could only shake her head at it, trying not to chuckle at the man, he was definitely confident for his age.

Mr Fylde stopped at the entrance and took a deep breath, checking the palm of his left hand for the right table. 'Table 15' it read in red marker pen and that's exactly where he headed. The table he stopped at was already bustling with men of all stature - mostly rich - with model sized women hanging off their arms as they smoked pint sized Cuban cigars and held gold crafted canes.

It certainly reminded him like something out of the 1920's, but so did the whole of Gotham. The only thing not ancient enough to be a swinger in this city was the money and technology, the former being him in the very near and gold uncreated future.

"Sir, would you like to join the game?" The boxman called to the "passing" Mr Fylde. He was dressed in a dark green suit with a gold name tag that read 'Scott', which made Frank scoff. How original, he smirked, Shannon to Scott, or was that Casey? He wasn't sure, the pair looked the exact same. That's why they were twins. "Quickly sir, before we start a new game."

"Scott" looked eagerly at the gentleman in the sparkly bow tie, eyes bulging. The last thing he needed was this 'gentleman'/his father, missing his cues. This whole plan had been detailed down to the last second and Franks pauses weren't helping the matter.

Frank hummed and slowly stepped towards the table. "Why not, craps is a personal favourite of mine." He smirked, gathering something from his suit.

"Minimum betting starts at 3K, Sir." One of the dealers said, making the man chuckle.

Frank produce a roll of dollar notes that added up to 5k. "This look like enough?" He challenged, throwing the money over to the boxman to change his cash into chips.

"Chips in five hundreds." Called the boxman, overseeing the whole exchange. "That's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten; 5k in chips." Frank watched as Scott pushed him the purple and orange chips, keeping eye contact as he did.

"Would the gentleman like to bet on the shooter?" The stickman asked.

Frank paused, side eyeing young "Scott" for a signal. The boxman responded in quick succession with a scratch of the nose. Frank knew what that meant. Smirking, Frank answered. "Pass line, 3K." The stickman nodded as Frank clapped his hand as the dice was handed to him. "Natural winner baby, here we come!" Already knowing the outcome.

The game was, after all, rigged.

* * *

Jerry trembled in a complete panic as he pulled up the back entrance of the building, going through the security check. Not only his lip but now his whole face was covered in a cold sweat and a pool now nestled in his brow.

"Play it cool, Jerry." Frost muttered beside him, glancing back at the Joker who impatiently took to playing with his grill. He knew his boss wanted to get with it but going all guns blazing like he usually did, on this one, there was a finer line between getting away with it and getting caught.

But as long as Jerry didn't stuff up and take too long, then the Joker would be happy.

Pulling up the barrier at the back gates, Jerry's words trembled out of him like a toddler learning to speak. "Jerry Black, with the secured load." He gulped back the frog in his neck as the officer behind the desk check on him.

It was the regular Jose who Jerry knew well, so it shouldn't be a problem to get in, the problem would be the inspection, and Jerry didn't want to know how that would end, he was just the driver, the man on the inside. Offered half a million and took it without an issue, but could there ever be an issue with the Joker? He could think of a few, which usually ended up with blood and a dead corps at the end.

"Hey Jerry, how's the wife?" Jose asked in his usual chirpy manner.

Jerry gulped, trying to compose his nerves. "She's good." He answered short. "Yours?"

Jose chuckled. "As loco as ever but that's what ya get with five kids." The small talk was over but in the darkness of night, Jose shone his torch onto the man sat next to Jerry, namely Frost. "Who's this?"

"T-this…?" Jerry frowned, looking beside him. He turned blank, he didn't know what to say. Joker watched on from the back, catching Jerry's eyes in that moment, making the driver panic more, he stuttered, lip dripping with sweat. If he messed up now he was dead.

"Wallace." Frost stepped in, giving a half smile and wave. "I'm new, shadowing under him for the next few weeks." He excused himself, trying to let this get on smoothly before Joker jumped out and shot the guard, leading to a disastrous, guns blazing heist.

"Jerry, shadowing?" Jose chuckled. "You sly dog J, I didn't have you down for the leadership type." Jerry just shrugged and giggled, knowing he'd been saved by the cool head in this whole operation. Jose pressed the button to let them through soon after, holding Jerry ransom to some of his wives macaroni and cheese when he next returned.

The rest after that seemed easy enough for Jerry. The drive into the underground parking was silent, dark and time consuming. On several occasions nervously glancing back to see the Joker's stance on this.

"Jerry… would you pick up the pace!" Joker shouted, annoyance and impatience seething through his grill. "I would like to rob this place now not next Tuesday."

Jerry gulped and apologised, put his foot down a little bit firmer on the pedal, speeding up just like the beating of his heart.

Soon they arrived in the docking bay underneath the building, where the inspection would take place. Jerry and everyone else inside the van sat still as the engine died and the silence took over, all you could here was the chattering from outside the van, where the officer's, armed with tasers, sort out the inspection.

Meanwhile, Joker psyched himself up in the back - which didn't take much, the smell of warm blood tingling his nostrils - ready to jump. He waited and waited for as long as he could, legs springing up and down, goons ready to shoot the second the door opened.

Like the ears of the bat himself, Joker heard the slight turn of the handle and whipped his head to the sound. He eyed his goons who slowly pulled the safety off.

Jerry could only described what he saw as something out of a crime thriller but in slow motion and with opera music drowning out the sound of the guns. As soon as those back doors opened, the shooting ran out like something out of a gangster movie. Jerry sat on, in shock, frozen, watching his colleagues get gun down. The bullets hit their chests with such force that they shudder, every muscle clenching to deal with the impact. Jerry held in a squeal and glanced away, covering his eyes. So much death and destruction being done.

His manic laugh rang out as the shooting continued as Jerry found himself quivering even more. He needed to get out of here, he couldn't stand to see the violence, let alone hear it. He just wanted his cut, that's all he wanted, he didn't want any of his colleagues to get hurt.

The driver eyed the back where all the killing was being "controlled" in the looser turn of the word before doing the same to the door next to him. He needed to get out of here, forget about it, try and flea. And with a count of five he did. The driver flew from his door, trying to be sneaky in his get away, quietly running along the concrete but he didn't get far.

"Jerry! FREEZE!" One of the inspectors called, but before the driver could plead his innocence, he felt the shock of 50,000 volts hit his body, sending his jerking body to an abrupt halt. The last thing he heard with a gunshot and a loud thump next to him before blackness hit.

Jerry led, out cold on the floor, as the Joker stood over him with a disappointing tusk. "Tsk, tsk tsk… oh Jerry, what are we going to do with you?" Joker's disappointment quickly turned into a rye smile and a high hum as he held the gun to his lips. He had one thought and no other, and as the bullet went off, staining the inside of the driver's head, his thought became a very mentally real reality. "I guess take your cut of the money...but I was gonna do that anyway…" Kicking his face as Joker whipped his body around to face his goons who were waiting for further instructions. Joker sighed and hunched his body, gun flying about as he spoke. "What are you waiting for, go… kill!"

* * *

Mrs Davenport, also known as Jenn by her name tag, busied herself with a well… a game of solitaire on her computer. It was late, she was bored and trying to beat her previous personal best of 43 seconds for a full deck.

As she moved the last of her Queens in the right position, "Jenn" glanced up from her desk to see one of the security guards in charge of the money load heading towards the casino. She frowned and shouted over to him. "Hey security guy, you can't be up here." Rounding the desk, she began to march over to him, knowing someone of the staff needed a bollocking but stopped short as he began to remove his mask.

Jenn hoped for a plain, confused face who had been sent the wrong way, but instead was met with the pale, almost white face of someone very familiar indeed. The red lipstick coating his lips and green hair were a dead give away if it weren't already

"Oh I think I can." Joker smirked, pulling his gun from his pocket and shooting her down.

The gunshot rang out as Nikola hit the floor, soon replaced with the crazy, insane and frankly terrifying laughter of the Joker himself and as he did so, the whole place went quiet. Every game stopped amidst the signature call of a psychopath before shear panic erupted, just the way the Joker liked it.

Nikola's body was in shock, she'd just been shot in the chest by the Joker. The blood was gushing and in her complete collapse of anything calming, she was struggling to contain it as she dragged her wounded body behind the concierge desk. She went to press the panic button underneath her desk but stopped short, she wasn't Jenn the receptionist, she was Nikola Rossetti, an elite criminal herself, her royal hiestess, she couldn't just call the police or worse, Batman.

"Joker's here." She spoke aloud, knowing everyone could hear her through their earpiece.

"Scott" came through first. "Yeah no shit." Crawling on his hands and knees through the casino.

"Don't fight back, I repeat don't fight back!" Frank shouted, ducking under one of the tables. Nikola checked the wound and coughed, this was not good. "Abort the mission, abort it now and get the fuck out before Batman get's here."


	3. Chapter 3

"I can take him, dad." Nikola breathed heavily in the midst of the chaos. Jokers chaos. When she didn't get a response she shouted. "Dad, I said I-"

"And I said to leave it." Frank growled back, running towards the front door.

Nikola's hand pressed tightly to her wound and glanced over the desktop, the sounds of screaming turning into scenes of mass hysteria as the Joker fired his gun into the air, sporting that manic laugh if his. "Dad-"

She started but was immediately cut short. "I don't care what you can do Nikola, get out before the bat arrives."

"Or Joker's goons catch you." Casey quipped, seemingly out of the danger zone.

"Yes thank you Casey." Now their mother was the feed, panting heavily as she ran to their safe spot. The gang had come up with an escape route for if something went wrong, they had to plan for every possibility, especially in Gotham. "Your fathers right Nikola, stand down."

"But-"

"Stand down!" The rest of the family shouted at once, making the woman roll her eyes.

She breathed heavily as the pain subsided into numbness. Why couldn't they let her do this, let her show her strength, her power. She was trained. Though, they'd always held her back from doing just that and she was sure that would continue until she killed them. She didn't mean that, she meant outlive...maybe…

Ripping her earpiece out, Nikola growled in annoyance and launched it across the marble flooring. Her hand fell on the small switchblade she had strapped to her leg just in case of emergencies (like the one she was in) and pulled it from underneath the hem of her dress. She breathed heavily as the chaos continued behind her, sure that murdering and looting was very much part of the Joker's agenda, maybe even hostage work. But instead, she inspected the blades grip. A opaque blue swirled around it, keeping for an easy grip and as the blade shot up, so did her adrenaline.

She needed to get out of here but her methods were a little more… unconventional than the rest of her families.

With another quick glance over the desk to see if the coast was clear, Nikola gingerly pulled herself to her feet and began to run in the direction of the door. The casino's door. People hurried past her, screaming, crying and being darn right babies about the whole thing. She didn't know why she wasn't obeying orders (yes she does) but she continued that way, the way of the mayhem, for the staff door.

As she was sneaking, she felt an arm around her stomach, pulling her back. It stopped her in her tracks, jerking her body and making her hiss in pain from the bullet wound. Her immediate thought was the Joker, making her heart kick up a gear. But he was too tall to be the Joker. It hit another level with the Bat's face flashed in her eyes, she hoped to fuck that it wasn't him, she prayed. She'd prefer the Joker to him, at least they had something in common; thieving.

It wasn't him either, there was no glove on his hand and his voice, didn't sound as distorted as his. "Where do you think your going." He said calmly, holding tightly to her wound.

Nikola's jaw tightened, her hand gripping the blade. "Home." She temmered in anger.

A chuckle, deep and rich came from the man holding her to him. "Oh no, I think Joker would like you as his little play thing… he likes himself a blonde."

Holding her breathing steady as this vile creature tightened his grip, trying to be assertive, Nikola spoke calmly, just as the blade flipped up. "It's fake." In one swift movement, Nikola had the knife sticking out of the man's legs, spurting blood, she pulled it out, feeling the blade penetrated his stomach before the guy curled over and fell to the ground. She inspected the blade, seeing the man lying there within the chaos, and knowing they were ignored, she teased him. Slowly, she ran her tongue along the blade, tasting the mans hot blood. Humming, she licked her lips. "You might wanna hold onto that leg," She smirked. "I think I hit a main artery."

With a wink, she ran off, leaving the man in a pool of his own blood.

* * *

Chaos turned to the quiet hum of police sirens and no sign of the bat as the Joker, swung his gun around his fingers. Dollar notes fell around him as the maniac hummed a sweet lullaby of success. Mission done and very quite successful, he thought happily to himself.

He watched as his men packed bag after bag of 100 dollar bills into the bags they had, delighted with himself. His plan was executed perfectly; infiltrate from the inside, create chaos, take off with the casino's money.

Why he'd never thought of robbing this place before, he didn't know. He'd usually stick with banks but lately they'd become too mundane. Always the same hostage situation bullshit; the cries of help, pleads for mercy, the tripping of the alarms, being chased by Batman…

Though the last one… he kinda like the thrill of.

"Boss." One of his goons called, the one with the big, vein injected eyeball.

Joker snapped from his daydream with a growl of ignorance. "What is it Bally?"

Even with the big eyeball on his head, the goon felt intimidated by the Joker's stare, so vicious. "Uh…"

"Well, spit it out you big dumb prick!" The Joker spat, growing impatient.

"It's Frost." The eyeball replied, a dull concern to his voice. "He's-"

"A bigger, better and smarter version of you?" Joker hummed with a giggle. "I know, that's why you're wearing that on your head and he's not."

"No, boss, he's been stabbed." When the eyed goofball managed to finally spit out what he was trying to say, Joker's smirk and any signs of playfulness had disappeared.

He didn't spit in anger, didn't laugh in his usual deludedness but instead, with a face like it had been carved by marble, said; "Take me to him, now." And that's what eyeball did, straight to the casino floor, where, Frost led, looking pale and weak.

"Boss." He grumbled weakly, covered in a layer of cold sweat.

Joker shushed the grumbling man and looked over his wounds. His head turned when he saw the deep wound to his thigh and the one to his stomach. Whoever did this, knew what they were doing, but who. "Yknow who did this?"

Frost nodded his head weakly, head cushioned by a pile of dollar bills (a good improvisation). "Th-the receptionist… the blonde." Joker frowned, he couldn't really remember, they all looked blonde to him. "You shot her…" As frost said that it clicked. "In the chest."

"And she got back up?" Joker smirked, handsomely surprised by that.

"Well…" Frost coughed. "She did stab me. Twice."

Humming, Joker stood to his feet, an interested smirk to his lips. Shot in the chest and point blank range and yet somehow still alive. That intrigued him but it also made him rage, unthinkable things coming to mind. This woman, who he'd shot in the chest for her blatant disregard for his stature, who should have probably died, had stabbed his right hand man and likely killed him… Joker wanted to know who this woman was and where she'd gone.

Frost screamed out in pain as one of Joker's goons tried to move him, making the clown growl in annoyance, pistol whipping the man. He was in no mood for any of that shit. "Get him to the unit for treatment and someone get me the name of that fucking receptionist!"

* * *

Nikola groaned, jumping through the window of their safe house. It was their hide out when things turned sour, like right now. The front door was never used for a reason; it was a derelict just like in Fight Club. No one cared about the house, Gotham city council didn't want to tear it down or sell it on. Probably because it was so close Arkham Asylum. So they could go incognito and plan all their heists, like the one that just fell a hundred foot down a slated cliff.

She knew her family were in the basement, she could hear them but she was hungry and annoyed, so instead headed to the kitchen. Sifting through the dirty fridge, the curdled milk and rotten tomatoes, Nikola grabbed the remains of a pasta salad and dug in, closing the fridge behind her.

As she did, she came face to face with four guns pointed her way and four in combat people holding them.

"Fucking hell Nikola." Frank sighed and eased up, flicking the safety back on. "We agreed to meet half an hour ago, where have you been?" Her dad demanded to know.

She rolled her eyes, putting the pasta salad down, it tasted tangy anyway. "Yeah well I was a little busy trying to escape the casino unnoticed." Sometimes she was a little child maybe even a teenage when she spoke but that came part and parcel with her indenting love of sarcasm.

It was then that her mother, Amelia noticed the blood stain that took up most of her chest and rushed over to her daughter with a gasp. "You've been shot!" She squealed, checking the wound. Nikola was a tall 6 foot while her mother stood at a mere 5'4, making the old woman worry over nothing.

"It's fine." Nikola sighed as she pulled back her too revealing just a small red blemish. Though her mother kept fussing. "Mom! It's healed, are you fucking blind!"

"Don't talk to mama that way!" Casey shouted, the older brother becoming defensive.

"She's freaking out over nothing, it healed you dick!" Nikola angered, ripping her blond wig off. "Remember that thing I have where I can regenerate cells!" She pushed her older brother, anger boiling.

"Don't talk to him like that!" Shannon jumped in, coming to the aid of his twin.

Nikola growled. Her eyes changing from the bright blue they'd been to their natural green, her voice changed as her anger built. "Get off my fucking back!" She screamed. "We've just blew a $100 million job because of the Joker!"

Just then a shot ran out from inside the safe house, the echo carrying outside as Nikola's body jerked back and hit the floor. The bullet was enough to knock her out as it landed between her eyes. "Now everyone calm the fuck down." Frank shouted, his gun smoking.

"Calm down?" Nikola groggily mused, pulling the bullet from her forehead, the blood dripping down her nose. "Five months I spent being that fucking receptionist, five fucking months dad!" She growled. "I had to obey the rules, had to be pushed around by my boss, abused by customers for shit all?!" Nikola fumed, cheat pumping. "Now you're telling us to calm down after all this fucking work? Huh? That's bullshit!"

"Nikola calm down." Amelia tried to be the diplomat.

Though Frank stepped in. "No, Amelia, she's right." He asserted himself. "We worked too long and too damn hard on this job for the Joker to fuck this up for us."

Nikola threw the bullet to the side, her skin healing up the wound. "We should fight back." She suggested, nay, demanded in the same assertiveness her father had.

Shannon however didn't like that idea. "Whoa okay, that's a no." He gulped. "Sure the Joker fucked us outta $100 mil sis but going after the him isn't necessarily the best idea."

"Yeah I agree." Casey added making her roll her eyes at the twins disregard for any pride.

"He just fucked us outta $100 mil and you'd rather like your wounds than fight back? That aren't our way Casey." She stood tall, her teeth gritted in anger, voice dripping with revenge. "When the Joker fucks you, you fuck him back harder. That slimmey green haired, lipstick wearing mother fucker fucked with the wrong family." She smirked. "And he's sure as hell gonna know about it."


	4. Chapter 4

"I dunno, it still sounds pretty stupid." Shannon tenderly said, being the little pussy he'd always been.

"That's because it is." Their mother firmly put her foot down on this one. "You must be as crazy as the Joker if you think that you can go after him, Nikola." She shook her head.

Nikola smirked and chuckled, running a hand through her short hair. "You questioning or stating that mom?" Amelia just gave her that knowing look that only a mother and daughter would know, before she latter continued. "Look we know the Joker isn't very subtle in anything he does-"

"Yeah tell me about it." Casey scoffed, nursing the cut on his face.

"Exactly, so it's not gonna be hard to find out what he's doing." She stated, no sympathy for her older brother who lacked the required meta human powers his younger sister had. "I mean the maniac owns the south side of Gotham, he parades around his clubs nearly every night, you always see that stupid purple Lamborghini of his and the bats usually not far behind."

"Which makes this dangerous Nikola." Amelia sighed, trying to get through to her hot headed daughter. "The Bat is always close behind, always watching the Joker. So if we're watching the Joker then the Bat is watching us AND the Joker."

Though Frank, husband, father and obvious leader of the group stepped in. "No, Amelia, I know this sounds crazy but I think she has a point." Making his wife roll her eyes. "Joker has no problem parading around with his loot, showing his worth, being a narcissistic asshole about everything."

"And your point is, Frank?" Amelia asked, tongue against cheek.

"We show him up." He shrugged as if it were that simple. Amelia scoffed in disgust of even the fathom of that sentence by her husband. "Come on, you know it makes sense."

"What fucking with the Joker?" She chuckled ironically. "Yeah of course it does, he fucked with us but he doesn't know that does he?" She argued. "And he wouldn't know anything about it if we just dropped it because we'd keep our lives, what's so hard to understand about that, FRANK!?"

Shannon sighed, he knew his mom was mad about this ridiculous plan that his younger sister and dad had come up with but it began to make sense. The oldest sibling stepped forward. "I'm in." He uttered, his younger twin gasping at his confession.

Nikola smirked, though Amelia wasn't pleased. "Your- what do you mean you're in?" Shannon puffed or his chest. "Shannon don't you dare tell me you agree with these two idiots."

"It makes sense mom." He explained. Amelia had to take a seat, she couldn't believe this was happening. Her own family turning on her in favour of some ridiculous revenge plan. "What Nikola and dad have said is all valid points." He paused, seeing the disappointment on her face. "He's a show off, you've seen him, he loves the attention to be on him, sometimes he goes out his way to get himself in a car chase just to see himself on TV."

"He's a maniac." Amelia bluntly said.

"A maniac with a superiority complex." Casey stepped forward. "He has to be the best of the worst and if he's not, he will make himself." Amelia's sighed, not him too. "It's why he's him, his greatest strength, but also his greatest weakness."

Head in hands, their mother uttered. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well…" Nikola stepped forward, crossing her arms. "He likes to be number one, so we make him number two. We humiliate him." She smirked. "That's sure to get to him, and while embarrassing him, we steal back what's ours because that's what we're good at; stealing."

"We'd not only be stealing our fortune back but his credibility as a villain." Shannon smirked.

"It's the ultimate revenge." Casey added, looking over at his sister.

Frank nodded, he liked this plan his siblings had come up with. "And you know what they say; Revenge is a dish best served with your own kinda medicine-"

"That's not how the line goes, dad." Nikola rolled her eyes, just as things seemed to be going to plan he came out with something like that.

"Well it is now." He smirked.

* * *

Joker stared at where Frost was having treatment thanks to a very close, personal friend of his. One who made a bargain with the devil and lived to regret that. He'd sold his soul in order to save his family, risky move when the devil was the Joker himself, Gotham's clown prince.

That made him smirk to himself as he peeled the orange in his hand. He may run half of Gotham and wreck the other half, but he still needed his five a day. This skin, although bleached, didn't take care of itself.

Frost screamed on the other side of the window, catching Jokers attention and making the doctor winced, he knew his life and his patients was on the line if this fucked up. Joker needed Frost but he'd only admit that to himself. He needed him for his stake outs, he was his information man, his deals man. Frost basically did everything for him and Joker, he just turned up to scare and killed people. That was the way it had been for several years after he picked Frost up and it would continue until Frost died or Joker got bored of him and killed him himself.

Just then, the door knocked twice, and Joker pulled his legs from his desk, urging for whoever was there to come in. His growl of a knowledgematic was enough for those who knew him and the door creaked open. Joker did not bother to turn around and acknowledge the person directly, though he knew it to be one of his goons, so much attention wasn't needed on that.

"What is it." He grudged, watching on in wonder as the blood kept pissing from Frost.

"Uh info on that receptionist, boss." His goon spoke dumbly, like the big brute he was, that's what several knocks to the head can do. Joker hummed and held his hand out to receive the pictures taken of her.

There were several pictures of her in her uniform and a few social media pictures. The Joker studied her for a second, an air of familiarity about her. Blonde hair, blue eyes, smoking body… Joker sighed internally. He couldn't think of Harley, not after her unfortunate passing. Amanda Waller was to blame for that, she knew Harley was a live wire and that she'd try and escape BEFORE Joker had the chance to set anything up, so when that happened, she blew her head off. That pretty, fucked up little head of hers, right off her shoulders.

The only one woman he'd thought twice about shooting.

"Speak." The Joker demanded though nothing was said. "I said speak god dammit, how am I supposed to get information out a fucking picture!" He threw the pictures to the ground, watching them scattering face down as his temper boiled. Never did he want to forget about someone as quick as he did about Harley.

"Oh uh…" His goon fiddled with his fingers, words weren't his strong point neither was patience with the Joker however. "Her names Jennifer Davenport, married to James Davenport, been working there for 5 months. Lives in an apartment close to the Von Gruenwald Labs, where he works."

Joker snapped his head around, nonexistence eyebrows furrowed. "Is that it?" The goon nodded his head and stood still. Joker stared at him though he didn't move. "Well go then!" He demanded. "Bring the car around."

"W-why boss?" The goon questioned and immediately regretted it as the clown abruptly stood to his feet, grabbing him by the collar.

The goon was easily five inches, maybe even more, taller than the Joker but in his case, size didn't matter. Everyone was afraid of him, he was the Joker, the clown prince of Gotham's underworld. Those ice cold eyes boring into your soul, sucking it out, a bargain even the toughest of people would find frightening. That grill shined in the lights from the other room, as sharp as razors and as deadly as a bear trap. "Because I wanna go on a midnight fucking stroll in the woods!" Joker shouted sarcastically, a snarl resonating. "We. Are. Going. To. Get. That. Little. Bitch. And. Make. Her. PAY! NOW, go and get the fucking car!"

As the Joker released him, his goon scurried away, leaving him to himself again. He turned and picked up the pictures of the blonde receptionist, smirking as he did. She was pretty, but she sure as hell wouldn't be when he was done with her.

Joker walked over to the plexiglass where Frost laid on the other side, and checked in. "Doctor…" He serenaded, making the surgeon tremble. "I'm heading out now to do a little… business… will you be fine to treat him by yourself?" The doctor nodded quietly, making the clown hum highly. "Good, now, if anything were to happen to Frosty there… I'd rip your eyelids off and feed them to your kids, BYE DOCTOR!"

The Doctor gulped, nodding and turned back to look at Frost, who was smiling at him, but of course, he was high on morphine.

* * *

The apartment wasn't hard to find, in fact they'd found it in no time and now had the skinny little fuckers skinny little husband hanging outside of the window. Joker was getting frustrated, this would be the third time he'd be explaining and he hated repeating himself.

"Now for the last time MR Davenport, where is SHE!?" He bellowed from his stomach, chest heaving underneath that silver suit of his.

"I-I don't know who you're talking about I swear M-Mr Joker, please, I don't wanna die." James pleaded as he glanced down at the heights he was hanging from. One slip and he knew he was a gonner.

Joker growled, kicking over a table in only a way he could. "YOUR WIFE! WHERE IS SHE?!" He fumed, gun pulled from his holster and aiming it between his eyes.

James paused, tears brimming his eyes. "She's dead." He whispered, the pain returning to his heart. Joker, always the eccentric laughed at his deadpan claim, pulling the safety off and giving him one last chance to explain. "N-no, please, I-I'm not lying Mr J… she's dead. She died."

Somehow, Joker believed him, he could see the grief in this man's eyes and for a moment shared that little empathy that his dark, cold heart could fathom before he asked his goon to pull him inside. Twice. "So you're telling me she died mhm?" He hummed, the guy nodded his head, as cold and pale as ice. "Now buddy boy, James ol' pal. I have a problem with that, a big fucking problem with that because if she's already dead then I cannot kill her myself! And oh do I so want to do that for what she did to my… what she did tonight!"

"Tonight?" James frowned, breathless as his back stood firmly to the wall of his apartment. He was shitting himself, nay, had already shit himself.

The Joker's head snapped up, snarl revealing those lovely nashers of his. "Yes, tonight."

"T-there must be s-some kinda mistake S-sir, M-Mr J…" James cautiously approached, still stuck against the wall, side eyeing his goon to the right of him. "M-my wife… Jennifer, s-she died two years ago." Joker stared wide eyed, chest beginning to heave again. "Of Leukemia."

There was a silent breeze in the air just for that one second before Joker's devilish features light up the room. "Oh James…" He sighed. "I know you're trying to protect her James but you're testing me." He began to walk back and forth. "Just for sanity's sake...James… Jamie… Jam… Jello...let's pretend she did die when you said she did and she's in fact not the woman I'm looking for, can you tell me where her body is? Mhm?"

James glanced to the mantelpiece of his livingroom and shakily pointed his finger at a burial urn there. "She's in there." A lump in his throat forming.

Jokers head turned slowly to face that way, where he indeed saw a burial urn sitting peacefully. In fury, he marched over to it and opened the lid, glancing inside. There was indeed ashes there, about halfway up the interior. His fingered glove dipped in and retrieved a finger full of the ashes where he stuck them in his mouth, sucking on them. They tasted like old pieces of cigarette tips, bitter, sour and most definitely dead.

Mrs Davenport was dead and Mr Davenport was very much in shock at what he was seeing. Joker had the audacity to return the ashes to the mantle piece at least before storming James' way.

Next thing James knew, he had the cold digits of the Jokers wrapped firmly around his next, restricting his windpipe. It was enough to make him battle for his right to breathe but not enough to kill him. With a click of his free hand, Joker was handed a photograph of which Jennifer took up the space. "Is this your wife?" James stared at it, seeing her face and nodded. "Did she ever work at the Gotham Colosseum?"

"W-what?" James question was worth a tightening of his throat.

"Every question you ask, you're one step to joining those ashes, you understand?" Joker growled. "Now nod or shake your head. And answer the questions." James slowly shook his head at the previous question. "Where did she work?" James didn't answer, finding it harder to breathe though the Joker only tightened his grip. "WHERE DID SHE WORK?!"

"At Von Gruenwald Labs with me, i-in the… the pharmaceutical research l-lab… it's how we met...I-I swear!" James choked, feeling his eyes droop, close to blacking out. But just as it all seemed to much, the pressure was gone and he heaved dryly.

Joker growled, throwing the picture away and undoing his dress shirt as he began to feel his anger boil. Who was this woman if she wasn't his wife? A con artist? An impersonator. The Joker was confused and he hated being confused, it meant he was weak, and that was one thing he hated being. Joker glanced back to the innocent man, giving up on this. He calmed himself enough to speak. "Now, usually I'd kill people like you who are… little use to me, Jammy… but I'm feeling somewhat empathetic tonight." Joker brushed down the man's shoulders, pushing off bits of rubble and lint. "I too, have lost someone that was close to me…" Joker paused, flicking his fingers for his goon to move. "Consider yourself lucky." With that, James was left standing alone, in the dark, and in complete shock as Joker's goon slammed the door shut.

Joker sat in the back of his black SUV just a few minutes later, head against window, where he hit it hard a few times. He stared down at the picture of this receptionist, eyes boring into the piece of paper so fierce that if he had the power too, they could set it alight. This woman, who he'd shot, who'd stabbed his friend, who'd died 2 years ago from Leukemia. _Who was she?_


End file.
